


Loss Island

by dentigerous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ahch-To, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Luke Dies, M/M, One Shot, Resistance, Skypilot, The Dark Side of the Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-30 04:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13942155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dentigerous/pseuds/dentigerous
Summary: Poe has been sent to Ahch-To to retrieve Luke Skywalker before the First Order catches up to the Resistance. While Poe hopes that he can leverage his past relationship with Luke to get him to leave the island, he quickly finds that there is no force in the galaxy that can bring the Jedi out of exile.A quick exploration, and some soft ruff boys.





	Loss Island

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based off the premise that Rey was not sent to Ahch-To, but Poe was. Poe has that familial relationship to Luke, and I also made them former lovers, just to explore that sort of pain and pull in both of them. I thought that there were some unexplored points in the movie, but I was a big fan of Grizzled Old Man Luke. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Poe had already decided that this island was not only supremely disappointing, but exactly what he had expected. Would it kill Luke to exhibit some spark of originality? The whole thing, Poe thought as he scrambled over the half-ruined walls of Ahch-To, was a touch dramatic.

“Find the most deserted-” Poe grumbled, walking up the steep stone steps, “most inaccessible planet. Make sure there are no hyperlanes nearby. Make sure that…”

Two blue-skinned, amphibious creatures looked up at him from where they had appeared--seemingly out of nowhere--and stared at Poe for a solid five seconds. Poe glanced behind him, then looked back to the two...nuns, possibly.

“I can see that I...have interrupted something,” Poe said, frowning. “I’ll just…”

The nuns seemed to glare at him, as much as their facial features could indicate displeasure. Poe swallowed, smiled, raised his hands and then turned away. He walked up the cliff backwards for a few steps before realizing that embarrassing himself would be preferable to toppling to his death, and turned to jog up the hewn staircase.

“Couldn’t even warn the locals he was expecting guests, could he?” Poe grumbled, turning a corner and seeing the small cluster of huts perched on the cliffside.

There were more obvious signs of life here; the embers of a dying fire, walking sticks lined up outside one of the huts, and a pile of fish bones that hadn't made it over the side of the cliff. Poe huffed, ran his hands through his hair, and decided that instead of going to find the disaster of a man who had exiled himself on an island full of puffin-like birds and fish creatures, he would sit here and wait.

“Newsflash, Luke,” Poe said, to nobody in particular, as he wandered around the porgs to grab sticks and kindling for the low fire. “You don’t leave a trail of breadcrumbs and then hope to be left alone.”

Now that was curious. Why would Luke even bother leaving a map? Why wouldn’t Leia just be able to find him? Who was the map even for? Lor San Tekka was too old, or too ornery, to follow Luke to this miserable rock. Poe sat, feeding the fire, annoyed that the sun was already beginning to set and there had been no sign of Luke.

Poe wanted to scream. He stood up instead and began to pace, walking back and forth in front of the fire.

“What are you doing here?”

Poe spun and saw Luke walking around a small bend of the mountainside, a giant fish over his shoulders.

God, damn the man looked rough. His beard had grown out, and Poe forced himself not to be distracted by whatever excuse for a hairstyle that was, and instead settled for glaring at the Jedi.

“I think that’s fairly self explanatory, don’t you think?”

“Not really.”

Luke pushed by him, dropping the fish on a long flat slab of shale and then knelt next to it.

“Not really?” Poe wanted to kick him, although the thought was fleeting. As petty as he wanted to be right now, it would come to bite him in the ass later. “You don’t leave a map and expect people not to follow it.”

“That map wasn’t for you.” Luke mumbled over his fish, slitting it open.

“Oh, was it for Leia? Or the Resistance?” Poe followed, crossing his arms. “Because if you really wanted to be left alone, you wouldn’t have marked your planet on an intergalactic starmap with a big fat ‘x.’ I can guarantee that if Kylo Ren had plugged that little piece of tech into a First Order ship, this pretty little honeymoon destination wouldn’t even be here.”

Luke huffed, heaved a pile of guts out of the fish and dropped them in front of Poe’s feet. Poe grimaced at the smell and took a step back from the steaming innards.

“Yeah, that’s real pleasant, very nice.”

“I didn’t invite you here.”

“You _left a map_.” Poe said through gritted teeth, speaking every word slowly. “If you didn’t want to be found, you wouldn’t have left a kriffing map.”

“I didn’t want to be found by you.” Luke said, looking up at Poe with clear eyes. Even beneath the crooked fringe of his hair, Luke looked hurt.

“Too bad.”

Luke pressed his mouth and turned his head down, reaching into the fish carcass and pulling out the last remaining bits of offal. He shook his hands at Poe’s boots and Poe took another step back. “I could always tell when you were angry with me,” Luke murmured.

“Well if I had the time to make a sign-”

“Poe.”

“Look.” Poe crouched down, eye level with Luke. “We need you. Your family needs you. The Resistance needs you.”

Luke shook his head, picking up a stone in the rough shape of a wedge and scraping away the hard outer scales of the fish. He didn’t say anything, and Poe stood up, walked around, and then crouched again, just off Luke’s right shoulder. He put his hand on Luke’s arm and squeezed, leaning in.

“I need you.”

“That line worked five years ago,” Luke grunted, pulling his arm away. “Not today.”

“It’s not a line,” Poe said, almost offended, but he didn’t try to touch Luke again.

“If it gets you laid, it’s a line.”

Poe wanted to ask if Han had told him that, but instead, he rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “That is not what this is about.”

“I know that,” Luke snapped, glaring at Poe. “I’ve had my fair share of arrogant affairs, but I’m confident that you didn’t fly across the galaxy for one last shack up with an old fling.”

Frustrated, Poe stood and took a step back from Luke. He looked around the compound again, trying to find...something. It was even harder to see now, the sun having truly set, but the structures looked sound in the way that all ancient things appear before close inspection. He took a deep breath, chose a more intact dome, and walked into it, shutting the wicker door without looking back at Luke.

Poe knew as he prepared his bed that he had said the wrong thing. Luke had been here for years, convinced that he was doing the right thing. It was apparent that trying to push Luke to do something he didn’t want to do would take a gentle touch, and more patience than Poe had to offer.

Poe ran his hands over his face as he sat down, trying to reevaluate what he was doing. How much could he really expect from Luke? Why should the Resistance even rely on Luke at all?

He was grateful for the thin layer of straw that served as a bed, and the woven blanket that just covered him. He knew the fire was dying, as he lay awake watching the light fade away from the crack under his door, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Why should he rely on Luke?

Morning came and Poe, despite his late night resolution to change his attitude, immediately regretted ever even thinking the word ‘compromise.’ He had proven himself a liar, once again, and it was mostly because he had watched Luke Skywalker milk a strange alien and then immediately chug whatever had come out of that creature’s teat.

Poe had kissed that mouth. Not recently, but still. That mouth had been places--intimate places--and now Poe had to live with the image of Luke’s mouth covered in blue milk and grinning at him like he had won the Ahch-To lottery.

Poe, frankly, wanted to pluck the eyes out of his head and scream.

Instead, he said nothing, and continued to follow the lost, last, bedraggled Jedi around the island, keeping his mouth shut the entire time. At the end of the day, Poe was fairly sure that he deserved a medal for the pains he had suffered at the hands of this fool man.

Poe knew that pushing Luke would only make the old man more stubborn and far angrier than he already was. So instead, for a full day, Poe followed him across the island and said nothing.

It was a test. Luke was testing him, and Poe refused to rise to the bait.

On the second day, BB-8 woke him up with a series of frantic beeps. Poe barely had time to sit up before he was smacked in the head by a long-range communicator. He stared at it blearily, and then nodded, pressing down the button so he could listen to the beacon.

Even though BB-8 had been plugged into the X-Wing, the message was blurry and ill-kept. There was Connix, her face angry and urgent, and while he could see her speaking he couldn’t hear her well, the transmission fading in and out with bursts of sharp words.

After replaying the recording three times, and finding a piece of charcoal with which to take notes on the stone, Poe had found out three things. The first was that the leaders of the Resistance were coming together to discuss the next steps in the fight against the First Order. A risky move even in the safest of times. The second was that the First Order had expanded its Dreadnought fleet and had destroyed two strong allies of the former Republic. The third was that Finn still had not woken up.

Poe reviewed his notes and sent his droid back to the starfighter. None of this was good.

It was a bleak report. Even repeating the message, he was unsure of some of the finer details of the transmission, but at least he had an idea about what was happening off Ahch-To.

Honestly, what did Leia expect from Luke Skywalker? Could he take down the First Order leadership with a wave of his hand? Judging by the day he had spent following Luke around, the old man had trouble enough keeping up with his own needs.

Was this a vanity mission? A last-ditch attempt to bring Kylo Ren back into the fold? Why was Luke vital? Maybe this was just to keep the First Order from getting him, getting whatever _it_ was that Luke had. Not that it looked like Luke had much of anything, if he was being honest.

Closing his eyes, leaning forward, Poe took deep breaths, willing himself to think harder, to think as a General would. What did Leia want from all this? Was Luke a symbol of the cause, or was he a weapon? What did she really want from him?

Later in the morning, he left the small hut, following Luke’s usual path up the hill to the fishing notch. The Jedi was nowhere to be found, and Poe was having a hard time navigating around the porgs that were building nests all over the island. He walked back to the firepit and looked around, and decided that if Luke was absent he might as well explore.

The truth was that Poe was nervous.

He walked up the island, not thinking, eyes down to keep from tripping.

There were too many moving part, and right now the First Order had bigger guns, institutional support, backup bases, and a larger army. Running away was becoming the plan more and more often, and how long until they were left with nowhere to run? There were no more small skirmishes, every time they got in with the First Order it was a fight for survival. The Resistance couldn’t last much longer.

Poe looked up as he reached a landing, noticing that the steps led inwards, and the top of this mountain had been cut away to reveal a tunnel. It looked ancient, as if it had been made by the storms themselves. He took a deep breath and walked through, shivering as the wind picked up around him.

Why was he still surprised when Luke turned up in these sorts of places?

The Jedi was sitting on the ground with his back resting against the ledge of a reflecting pool, staring at another arch. Poe stepped in, looking over the smooth black and white riverstones that made up a pattern in the still pool. He saw that there was a ledge, and on the ledge there was a pedestal overlooking the oceans and islands to the west.

“You’re interrupting.”

“Don’t mind me,” Poe chided, sitting down on the wall that contained the pool, looking over the mosaic under the water. As he watched a single drop fell from the stalactite hanging directly above. “Just taking in the scenery.”

Luke made a noise that was something in between annoyed and resigned, but didn’t say anything else.

Poe shifted, looking out.

It was peaceful. He could almost forget the war happening. The feeling of hurt and guilt hit him immediately and Poe’s chest constricted with his own betrayal. There were so many still fighting who couldn’t forget. This wasn’t a vacation. He needed to stay focused. Poe took a deep breath and turned his face away, looking at the worn stones beneath his boots.

Luke said nothing, didn’t move.

Five years ago, Luke was quick to tease Poe about his emotions, his fire, the rush, the passion, the hurt and pain, the love and loss. Poe’s feelings came so easy to the surface of Poe’s thoughts, and Luke seemed to enjoy picking them out and asking about them.

Now there was nothing, and despite the lack of expectation, Poe felt hurt. He sighed and looked out again, his calf pressing against Luke’s arm. Neither of them moved.

“I’m not leaving,” Luke murmured.

“Yeah, well. Give it a few days.”

Luke grunted, but didn’t move away.

It was definitely, absolutely, not an invitation, but Poe had enough of sitting and waiting. He stood and carefully shifted so that his legs were braced on either side of Luke’s shoulders, and sat down again. Luke sat up straighter, and _that_ was certainly not a rejection, so Poe slid forward, hand on Luke’s shoulder, the other moving through his hair slowly.

He was expecting a sharp word. He was expecting to be pushed away. It seemed as if Luke had deflated, and he leaned his head against Poe’s thigh, sinking slowly.

Poe smiled a little and looked out.

“Do you come up here often?”

“No,” Luke grunted.

Poe chuckled, twisting some of Luke’s hair in between his fingers. “Is that a lie?”

“Yes.”

Sighing, Poe allowed himself to relax, his eyes trailing over the sharp edges of the rocks, the way the light spread across the facets of the sharp-hewn temple.

“Who made this place?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s another lie.”

“A half lie,” Luke sighed and shrugged. “The first Jedi. Or some of them. Their names are lost. Their legacies-” he cut his hand across the air. “No more.”

Poe hummed, pushing Luke’s hair over his ear, down his jaw, over his ear again. “Because you’re the last?”

“I’m not a Jedi anymore,” Luke said. “There are no more Jedi.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“It’s not up to you.” A bit of an edge came back to Luke’s voice. Poe sighed, tugged on his hair and leaned down to quickly kiss Luke’s temple.

“Shut up.”

Luke huffed, but didn’t argue. Poe smirked and rested both hands on Luke’s shoulders, smoothing over his cloak. It had gotten colder, the light fading fast under the cover of accumulating clouds.

“This doesn’t mean you’re right-” Luke said, turning to look at Poe over his shoulder.

“Yes dear,” Poe chuckled, looking down at Luke.

“That’s not funny.”

“Your sense of humor died twenty years ago, pardon me if I don’t trust your comedic judgement.” Poe was still smiling, watching the storm through the small archway. It was coming up fast, whipping up the water, darkening the sky.

“You weren’t even alive twenty years ago,” Luke muttered, sullen again. It was put upon and they both knew it. Luke leaned his head back against Poe’s knee, and the younger man’s hand returned to teasing Luke’s hair.

“I know I look young and beautiful, but it’s mostly due to good diet and exercise. The adrenaline of constantly fighting authority figures keeps it all firm. Lots of water. A good amount of time in the cockpit of an X-wing-”

Luke snorted and Poe grinned again.

They were silent then, watching the clouds gather darkly.

The storm travelled quickly across the ocean, and when it hit them, it was in the frigid wind that shot through the cave, the slanted rain that hit their faces and arms. Poe shifted to wrap his arms around Luke’s shoulders, pulling him close. Luke didn’t resist, letting his back rest against Poe.

Poe knew this peace was a lie. The wind was biting, the rain was sharp, and he was holding onto the last Jedi, the hope of the Resistance. Luke was the last ally they had with real power in the galaxy. It was incredible, the kind of strength that Luke wielded, the hope he held.

He turned his head to kiss Luke’s temple, then his cheek, and when Luke turned his head up to meet him, Poe slid around and climbed into Luke’s lap, arms over his shoulders, fingers tangled in his hair.

The storm raged, and as it got colder, Luke and Poe clung to each other, still clothed, kissing in between the thunderclaps. Poe smiled against his neck and Luke ran cold and warm fingers through Poe’s curls gently.

They had been long apart, and as they waited for the gloomy afternoon storm to abate, they spent time remembering each other, smiling against skin. No clothes were taken off--it was cold, and they were in a cave--but Poe enjoyed his hands against Luke’s sides, and Luke remembered the way that Poe liked to have his hair pulled just enough to turn his head up.

But the storm passed, and after it did, Poe and Luke walked down to the small collection of stone huts in silence. They refused to talk about the mirrors they walked through. Poe didn’t want to break the glass love they had built on fragile foundations.

* * *

That evening, after some kind of dinner that Luke had thrown together, Poe returned back to the small hut he had claimed. BB-8 had again managed to make their way up the stone steps from where Poe had landed his ship. Immediately, he crouched down, checking over the droid.

“I can’t believe you, you should be staying with the ship.”

The droid cut him off with a series of intense beeps and binary screeches that took Poe a second to figure out. He shook his head, frowning deeply.

“You got this information from Connix?”

BB-8 did an approximate nod and then rolled back and forth a bit more, explaining where she was. Poe cursed, putting a hand over his eyes. He was running out of time, far faster than he had anticipated. If Connix was already overseeing the evacuation of D’Qar it was only a matter of hours, at most a day until the First Order hung low over the sky.

He needed Luke to come back to take on the First Order, to finish it. There was something impossible about it, something that Poe knew was futile.

Standing up, Poe tapped BB-8 fondly on the head before walking out of the hut. The night had fully set in, there was only a single crescent moon and and handful of halfhearted stars in the sky. The wind rose and fell as the clouds passed overhead. Poe walked over to the dying fire and immediately stood in front of Luke, who was still tending the embers.

Luke looked up, frowning, and Poe took a deep breath before he knelt down.

On his knees, face to face with Luke, it seemed as if the wrinkles around the Jedi’s eyes had been carved with a chisel. The light from the fire at his back shone in the gray of his beard, the blue of his eyes. Poe shifted forward again, putting his hands on Luke’s jaw, tilting his head up.

“I love you,” Poe said, simply and without expectation. Luke smiled a little, ducked his head, nodding under Poe’s hands.

“I know.” Luke’s voice was soft. The wind seemed to sigh around them, and the cinder-fire smelled of salt and a sandalwood.

“Hey,” Poe murmured, one hand going to cradle the back of Luke’s neck. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Luke’s, and he could feel the tension go out of Luke’s shoulders as he did. Luke’s hands remained folded softly in front of him, and he made no move to reach out.

Poe closed his eyes instead, focusing on Luke intently.

Luke sighed, and finally placed his hand-- the one made of flesh and blood, warm and unhurt--on Poe’s cheek.

“I know,” Luke said again, more insistent, still soft. “I know.”

“I can’t stay forever.”

Luke nodded, moving slightly, his bowed back straightening, leaning into Poe. “I know.”

“We need you.” The fire was warm against Poe’s back, and he found himself even closer to Luke, his arm resting over Luke’s shoulder, the heat off his body drawing him in.

“No, you don’t.” Luke said, his voice no longer humble, but assured.

“Luke, this is so much worse than what it was.” Poe opened his eyes, meeting Luke’s. “There are no more factions, there is only fear. The Republic has been destroyed. It’s gone, it’s...all gone. There’s only the Resistance, and we can’t lose a single man.”

“I am not a fighter anymore.”

Poe pressed his mouth to keep from saying anything, and Luke smiled a little. He turned his head, just barely, and pulled Poe into a kiss that was kind and gentle. Poe heard the waves in the distance, the pounding of adrenaline in his ears, the heat of the two flames at his chest and back, the cold above and around. It hurt to kiss Luke now, it was a memory, a shadow, and Poe needed the Jedi Master.

But it was all just Luke, his eyes like the cloudy sky through a forest grove, his hand like a promise, his kiss like a farewell, and Poe knew that Luke wouldn’t leave this island for any reason. Not for him, not for his own sister, not for the Resistance, or the Force, or the future.

Poe pressed forward, but Luke was still strong, still had power in him, and he kept Poe from moving too close. Luke broke the kiss and Poe didn’t open his eyes, didn’t move, but his hands were less insistent, resting against Luke without demand.

“You say that, and it’s almost like a dare, you know?”

Luke chuckled, shaking his head, and Poe smiled.

“You shouldn’t tease your elders.” Luke’s voice was low and soft, and Poe didn’t turn away. Luke slid his hands up Poe’s chest, and Poe grinned, leaning forward to kiss him hard.

* * *

Poe stopped in to see BB-8 in the early hours of the morning, slipping out of Luke’s hut silently. He was still learning how to navigate around the slippery stones and enigmatic nuns, but had managed to charm a few of them and a rather boisterous nun offered to share her porridge with him. A kind gesture that he ultimately refused. He wasn’t sure that they weren’t cooking with the Thala-siren milk he had seen Luke use liberally in his own dishes.

He could hear BB-8’s beeps before he had even reached the X-Wing. Jogging up to the ship, he jumped onto the wing and scrambled over to the droid, worried that something had happened to hurt it.

“Hey, buddy, calm down,” he murmured, putting a hand on its head. “Slow up, alright? Speak to me.”

BB-8 seemed to sigh, letting some air out through a small vent. It was sweet, and Poe smiled as he rubbed its side. The droid relayed the single wave basic-transmission message it had received from Connix.

Whatever timeline Poe had yesterday had blown up in his face. The First Order had already found the Resistance base on D’Qar and, impossibly, followed them through hyperspace during their escape. Connix had no idea what was going to happen on board the _Raddus_ , Finn had woken up, Leia had nearly died, and Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo had taken over. Poe’s head spun as he sat down heavily on the wing of his ship.

Connix promised to send pings via a binary beacon every twelve hours, but any further communications were dangerous. They were running on the fuel reserves and had just over forty hours before systems started to fail and the Raddus wouldn’t be able to stay ahead of the _Supremacy_.

He needed to leave.

He felt helpless, useless, unable to do anything to help save his friends, his home, his cause...all because he was here, trying to convince a man who refused to be convinced.

As futile as staying on Ahch-To seemed, running off to join the _Raddus_ seemed even less effective. What would he do then? How much fuel could he possibly add to the command ship’s store?

Patience was the only option. Even if it meant that he stayed here until the zero hour, there must be a reason that he had been led here. Poe believed in the Force, had seen it growing up every day with Luke’s tree in his backyard, but he knew that unless you took action yourself, no magic energy was going to save you.

Even Force-sensitive trees didn’t prune themselves.

Sick to his stomach at the idea of waiting another eight hours to hear from his friend, Poe began to walk, making another round of the island. It was still early, and the fog hadn’t yet been burned off by the sun. Lost in thought, he didn’t try to keep track of where he was going.

Despite the small size of the isle, when Poe finally looked up he couldn’t figure out exactly where he was. He sighed, and looked up, trying to gauge the direction he was headed, but the clouds and fog made it impossible to see exactly where the sun was.

As he tried to orient himself, he saw that he was descending into a valley, steep green hills on every side. He held a hand out as he skipped down the stone steps, frowning. More than just being turned around, this was a part of Ahch-To he hadn’t been before. Poe slowed down at the base of the steps, frowning, looking around.

The surroundings weren’t unfamiliar, they seemed as normal as any part of the island. It was quiet though, without the sound of the ocean, without the cheeps of the porgs, without the steady breath of Luke standing next to him.

He felt that pull, that Force, it was similar to the feeling of the tree his parents had back home. There was something familiar here, and Poe knew, somehow, it was something deep in the ground. This must be another place was special to the Jedi, more than just the meditative silence.

Poe found a worn path and walked along the inset blue stones. It felt easy, simple, and all thoughts of the Resistance and the First Order fell away as he walked. It was a meditation; stand, step, strike, breathe.

The gravity shifted and Poe suddenly felt very heavy. He frowned and looked up, stopping on the path. In front of him was the trunk of an ancient tree that looked as if it had been fossilized. It was dark, the edges of the broken branches softly curved and weathered by wind and rain. The sea salt must have preserved it, as there was no other tree on the island.

Poe walked up to the entrance of the tree trunk, aware of its immense age, and feeling deeply that this was some ancient sire of the tree that Luke had given to his own mother years ago. Poe ducked his head to walk into the hollow of the tree, keeping his hand lightly on the walls of the trunk. It smelled of the ocean and incense, as if this were a holy place. It felt of ritual.

There was a shelf of books hewn into the wood. Poe frowned, walking forward to brush his fingertips along their spines. The covers were sewn on with leather thongs, and the spines were bone and leather and even a supple wood that bent under his touch. He took a step back, feeling like he had been punched in the gut. Was this what Luke was protecting? Was this why Luke refused to leave Ahch-To?

He shook his head and turned, leaving the books unopened. It was the tree that had brought him here, he knew it, but it held no more sway as he left. The clouds had cleared, and Poe found his direction again, turning to head towards the beehive huts. As soon as he heard the sounds of the ocean again all his anger and worry came back, and he was consumed again by thoughts of the Resistance.

He arrived back to the huts a few minutes before Luke returned with a large fish. It seemed the man’s days were filled with the same kind of monotony as the nuns and monks who must have lived here in the first days of the Jedi. Luke seemed to resent exile, even though it was self imposed.

Sitting down across from Luke, he watched him work, not saying anything. The man’s hands were sure and unshaking. Even in the simple moments, Poe found something to admire in the man.

Poe flicked a pebble at Luke’s head absently. He expected the Jedi to catch it, or stop it, or move out of the way, but the rock hit his temple without so much as a flinch. Poe blinked, surprised, and was startled enough that when Luke returned fire with a fish scale, the missile found its mark, attaching with a slick pop to Poe’s eyebrow.

Poe ducked his head to brush it off, still confused.

“I never used hit you.”

“Yes, well done. I’m old.”

“You were surprised to see me here,” Poe continued, frowning. Luke didn’t look up cleaning the fish methodically, slowly. As if he were meditating. “You didn’t even hear the X-Wing’s engines.”

“I’m old, Poe, stop rubbing it in,” Luke snapped.

“You were old five years ago, and I never got the jump on you. I used to throw apple cores at your head and they’d wind up smacking me in the ass.”

“The folly of youth.”

“Actually, I think it was called the Force.” Poe kicked him with the toe of his boot. “Luke, what’s happening?”

Luke glanced at him, and then passed over a large piece of fish. Poe took it without complaint, but didn’t look away from Luke. He took it all in; the mid-day sun against Luke’s forehead, the way his hands seemed steady, but were a hair’s breadth away from trembling as he held the knife, how Luke refused to even glance up at him. The realization hit him suddenly, and it tasted like dirt in his mouth.

“You can’t feel me. You can’t feel _anything_.” Poe sounded horrified, his arms full of fish.

“Don’t be cruel,” Luke snapped, gesturing that the meat in his hands. “Put that on the fire, I’d like to eat before dawn.”

Shocked, angry, Poe did as he was bid and then stood up. Luke glanced at him and then turned the fish carcass over, hacking to cut out the spine. “You don’t know what happened.”

“Know what?”

“Do you know what the First Order did? What they’re doing now?”

“What do all evil men do?” Luke asked, not looking up. “They kill, they fall, they rise, they kill again.”

“They destroyed Hosnian Prime. The whole system, five planets, in less than two minutes.” Poe took a step back, looking down at Luke to gauge his reaction. “They had a weapon as large as a planet. It _was_ a planet. They killed billions of people, and you didn’t feel it?”

Luke seemed frozen, his knife deep in the back of the fish.

Poe should have guessed, should have known. Maybe it was better this way, that Luke didn’t know. This meant that he didn’t ignore what was happening, he didn’t turn his back on the universe, he wasn’t as heartless as that. The idea that Luke simply didn’t know was better, wasn’t it? That he was ignorant, not a brute.

No. It was worse. It was just as bad.

“You have a responsibility-”

“I’m not the galaxy’s keeper,” Luke snapped, loud and harsh. “I’m one man, the last of my line, and whatever power you think I have is not enough-”

“You could have done something!” Poe yelled, and Luke rose to meet him, on his feet, as angry as Poe was. “You’re making excuses for turning your back on us. On all of us!”

“You’re full of it.” Behind Luke, the fire snapped loudly, catching on the soft, wet bones of the fish. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Did you know Han’s dead?” Poe’s voice was as sharp as the stones around them. Luke’s face immediately went slack. Poe knew it was mean, knew it was callous, and he continued anyway. “Yeah. He’s gone. Do you know how he died?”

Luke’s jaw worked. He turned away and sat down again, picking up the knife again. “You know I don’t.”

“Kylo Ren killed him. Han was protecting two kids on a mission to save the entire Resistance, the last kriffing hope of freedom in the entire universe as we know it, and he faced Kylo Ren to give them time to escape. Time to set the trap, to destroy a weapon that could blast an entire system of the galaxy. As if Han could bring him back, as if Han would ever be able to do anything but love his son.”

He was getting some of the details mixed up, he knew it, but he had only a few rusty transmissions from D’Qar and Rey’s strange memories to draw on. It didn’t matter if he was entirely right. One of Luke’s best friends was dead and Luke, who should have known, should have felt it or seen it or at the very least, should have been hurt by it, had no idea.

Poe waited, but Luke didn’t respond, didn’t look up, and around them the air seemed colder, the night darker. Poe took a step back, shaking his head.

Luke’s voice was soft, and Poe turned away as he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

Poe turned and quickly made his way down the side of the island opposite his ship. He was sure that if he saw the X-Wing he’d let his impulses get the better of him and he’d get off the kriffing planet before he knew his hands were on the controls. The rocks slid under his feet and he caught himself on a broken wall, the sharp edges cutting open his hand. He hissed and pressed his palm against the side of his thigh, sitting down.

He was far enough from the huts that he couldn’t see the domed shapes behind him. Sighing, Poe pulled an oil-stained rag out of a jacket pocket and wrapped it around his hand.

This was all worse than he had expected, and his expectations were low from the start. Luke wasn’t a broken man, he was just...a man.

Poe leaned forward, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to control his breathing. Luke had been a star in his sky for so long, and now he had come crashing down like an ancient satellite. A malfunctioning man, a thing that no longer felt or saw as he used to. It was deeply sad, and Poe felt as if Luke was a different creature entirely.

Poe had to sit and breathe there for nearly ten minutes before he could think properly again. He had loved Luke. Still loved him. Idolized him, raised him up to a power that no others could match. Maybe he had played himself into thinking that Luke Skywalker would change for him.

Standing again, he picked up the small light and continued down to the soft stretch of land that led to the ocean. He walked along the seam where the rocks rose to meet the mossy ground, watching his feet.

What was he supposed to do now that Luke had proven himself not only a disappointment, but ignorant of it all. If he was truly as this cut off, did he care? Did he even _want_ to care?

There was no time to contact the Resistance, they were already fighting a losing battle. They weren’t faced against just the First Order, but they were pitted against time and resources. Now, on top of all that, there was this. Luke’s bitterness would only dishearten them. Surely Leia knew that her brother had been cut off from everything? Did she think that Luke had abandoned her alone?

The thought made him furious. How dare Luke abandon them like this? It was unforgivable, it was selfish and self-indulgent. He felt the betrayal for Leia keenly. Her own brother had left her behind.

The mossy green path sloped up, around a crag, and then went down again. Poe knew that he was venturing where he hadn’t been before, but he didn’t care, only wanting to get away from Luke. For such a small island, Luke travelled along only a few different separate paths.

He stepped down to the rocky shores of the island and stopped on the edge of a sharp drop. The sea came up to the perfect corner of the rocky ledge, and then retreated suddenly. Under this there was another shelf, and a dark patch of weeds that spread from a central point, the green so dark it was almost black. Poe swallowed, glancing up at the cliffs that framed this inlet. All of was too sharp, too perfect to be natural, and it must have been carved by the same Jedi that had worn circles around the still pool high in the mountain.

The moon shined down on this place, fitting neatly in between the cliffs to illuminate the rocks and the vines that seemed to curl around themselves. It took Poe a few seconds to realize that it wasn’t a mass of snakes.

Crouching down, Poe braced himself and then jumped to the low shelf, water splashing up around his boots. He turned around, and saw nothing. The water was still at the edge of the ledge, and the watervines seemed to be retreating as well, moving into the dark pit. If this was a place of the Jedi they had left no mark here, no clue as to how to tap into their ancient secrets.

If Luke was any kind of model, Poe wasn’t sure he cared to know what the Jedi taught.

The cold had dropped down into the small wedge, the wind whipping up the freezing water, but Poe didn’t feel the need to turn back. His anger was hot in his chest, and he felt a strange, symbolic tug towards the pit. It was inexplicable, like a prickle on the back of his neck. He stepped forward slowly, pausing and careful, and then he knelt down into the soft kelp. He couldn’t see anything beyond the dark water ivy, and the vines seemed to creep outwards again, as if they were breathing, as if they were calling to him.

He shifted forwards, curiosity curling in his belly, and as soon as he put his hands on the ground to get a better vantage, the vines seemed to slide, and he fell down. With a cry, Poe hit the dark water. He flailed and struggled to find the surface, out of order and weighed down by his clothes. He found air and gasped, treading water.

A soft light came from a sheet of crystal that lined one of the walls. He swam towards it, grateful that there was another sharp ledge here, something man-made. He coughed as he pulled himself onto the stone, breathing hard.

The was an echo in the cave that reminded him of the nightmares he had as a child.

Poe finally pushed himself up, kneeling on the ledge. He looked around the cave that was littered with bones and watervines, and saw that the pulsing quartz that was not shining with its own light, but reflecting the soft moonlight at all angles.

He swallowed and stood, drawn to the murky mirror. He wasn’t thinking, he asked no questions of this place. Poe pressed his mouth together, not moving or breathing, and he saw that it wasn’t crystal but a waterfall. Passing through it, he came out not in a cave, but standing on a rope and slat wood bridge.

Ahead was the lush forests of Yavin. Poe’s eyes widened and he turned back, but only saw the rainforest all around. He recognized this place, this bridge. The sun was warm on his face, the scent of the bark was rich and it surrounded him, erasing any kind of salty ocean-scent that might have clung to him. He was near home.

His heart caught in his throat, he was breathing faster, and without a care for the danger of it, he ran across the bridge, almost falling onto all fours, running towards his home. He could always tell where it was, it was a true north to him, a lodestone as nothing else had ever been in his life.

When he came out at the clearing where he knew, he _knew,_ his house would be, there was nothing but the green-blue tree that Shara and Kes had planted together. It was huge now, and its branches covered the sky in way that made Poe’s eyes hurt when he looked up. It gleamed and glowed, and the leaves caught the sun like a mirror, blinding him.

He turned away, shielding his eyes and saw nothing. His home wasn’t there, there was no foundation, nothing. It was nothing.

Walking forward, Poe searched for something that would tell him that someone had lived here. That this was a home, beloved and tender, but there was nothing, there were trees where his room had been, a crushed bird’s nest where the front door had been. All memories, wiped out.

Was this it? Was this the measure of his childhood?

He knelt to touch the egg shells. They were exceptionally delicate, the outside dark red with cream-colored specks, a gray film lining the inside.

Was this it?

Poe looked up and saw that he was inside the pyramid base of the first Rebels. He turned around, looking for more, for something, but vines and mechanical parts strewn around the structure. Nothing. This was it. This was nothing, there was no reason for anyone to be here, no reason for anyone to have ever been here.

He stepped out of the pyramid and looked up and saw clear skies. No ships on the horizon.

Luke’s words came back to haunt him.

They do what all evil men do.

What all men do.

There was no difference in between any of it.

He turned again, and there was another empty building, one he recognized as the seat of the Republic on Hosnian Prime. It was empty, dark, made of nothing. It had been destroyed, he remembered in the dusty back of his memory; there should be nothing here.

Poe began to run, pushing open the door to the main hallway. His footsteps stumbled, and he stopped suddenly, finding himself on the edge of another rocky cliff/ He gasped and looked around, eyes wide as he took in the the rainforests that spread out in front of him, watching with awe and terror as the trees grew and twisted upwards in front of his eyes. It was still Yavin IV, but it was something new. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. What did any of this matter?

It hit him, suddenly, without warning, without intention, that even if he failed, even if Luke died and the First Order took over, would it matter? Would anyone care?

Who would know the difference in between his success and his death? Who would be left to care? He was nothing, inconsequential, made of string and bone and a hope that meant nothing. That would achieve nothing but wasted energy and scrap.

That was it, wasn’t it? The pulsing panic that rose as he watched the universe age and die, reborn and remade over and over.

That this was all for nothing. That this was all...inconsequential.

The voice echoed around the scenery that had stood for thousands of years, the forests that would stand for hundreds years more, the birds that would die in ten years; _What do all evil men do?_

“They rise,” Poe responded, stepping off the cliffs and onto the bright green canopy, falling through the leaves. He curled up as the branches smacked his back and sides as he dropped.

Then there was the shock of cold water and Poe floundered, breaking the surface of the pool again, eyes wide. He gasped and pulled himself on the ledge, breathing hard. He slid onto his back and looked over at the crystal sheet and made a rude gesture. The wall did not respond.

He sighed, not feeling any better, and then laid his head back, trying to shake off the feeling of being ripped out of your warm bed and thrown into a cold shower. He took a deep breath and said, to nobody in particular, “It matters.”

The wind rushed through the cavern, and there was a splash, a sound of something like chimes, and Poe growled in the back of his throat.

“Shut up.”

* * *

When Poe circled back up to the huts, he felt as if he had aged a full decade.

He didn’t go directly back to the circle, and had instead gone to the X-Wing and checked in with BB-8. He knew that he couldn’t spend any more time on Ahch-To. There had been another message on his droid from the _Raddus_ , and every word seemed to describe a situation that was more dire than the Resistance could hope to survive.

There was still no savior apparent. Holdo maintained her authority, and had not deviated from the course. The auxiliary ships had fallen behind, fuel reserves depleted, and had been destroyed by the First Order that stalked behind them like a predator in the night. Even if Luke were brought back to the _Raddus_ now, what good could he do?

He’d wasted too much time with Luke, chasing a phantom, a dream, a shadow.

A shadow of a shadow. The man he wanted to come with him didn’t exist.

He didn’t try to find Luke that night, and instead fell asleep alone in a drafty hut. He curled up near the wall, shivering. The rain began at midnight, and it was still drizzling when he woke up.

The full weight of his decision made him slow to rise. He didn’t have time to waste, but still he hesitated, sitting on his bed and running his hands through his hair.

After a few more minutes he stood and walked out. The wind blasted him as soon as he was in the open. He took a deep breath and walked over to Luke’s steel door. There was smoke rising from the hut, and he knocked once before pushing the door open.

Luke looked up, and Poe was surprised to see that he had dressed in his Jedi clothing. The robe was tailored to his height, and the way that the homespun linen pressed against his chest was familiar and unfair.

Poe didn’t think much about it, stepping forward, laying his hands on Luke’s shoulders, drawing them down, over his collarbones and chest, holding onto his hips. He pulled Luke close, pressing his forehead against Luke’s, and the Jedi finally responded, holding Poe by his elbows.

“I have to go.”

“I know,” Luke murmured, not quite sad but resigned.

“I have to go today.”

Luke shook his head, eyes closed, as if he knew what Poe would say next.

“Come with me,” Poe whispered, pleaded even, pulling Luke close. He swallowed, turning to press his mouth against Luke’s. “Please.”

“I can’t.” Luke’s voice almost broke. He didn’t move away from Poe, turning his head slightly, hands gripping Poe’s arms tightly. The wind outside nearly snatched away his words, making a low moaning sound in between the cracks of the stones and mortar.

It wasn’t enough. It was a paltry excuse, and once again, Poe felt hurt and angry all over. He flinched and pulled away from Luke, frowning.

“Then you will watch the whole galaxy burn,” Poe said, taking another step back. “Worse, you won’t even know it. You’ll think it’s the sun’s reflection on a wave, you won’t even know.”

“You don’t understand-”

“You’re right!” Poe snapped, clenching his fists. “I don’t kriffing understand! Your sister is fighting, your friends are dead, and you’re here wasting your days fishing and collecting mud for your hut. There’s nothing here Luke! There’s nothing here that’s worth losing everything else!”

Luke didn’t respond, no sign of shame or worry crossing his features. He was frowning, but it was in deep concentration, without anger. Poe wondered if Luke felt anything.

Poe set his jaw, glaring. “Fine.”

He turned on his heel and left the hut, not looking back. Whatever Luke wanted to do was his business, but there was no Force in the universe that would keep Poe from helping his friends, no matter what the circumstances, no matter how dire.

He got to the X-wing and helped lift BB-8 into the droid’s cockpit, carefully coiling the charging cable as he listened to a series of beeps and whines.

Poe sighed, packing up the small camp around the starfighter. “He’s not coming.”

BB-8 whistled, and Poe shook his head. “I said that. He doesn’t care. Run diagnostics, get us ready to fly.”

There was silence as Poe finished cleaning up. He checked the surroundings for nuns, tried to shoo as many porgs away as he could, and eventually jumped into the pilot’s seat. He ignored the empty seat behind him, and instead checked over the instruments and dials carefully. With the ticking numbers and gauges he could focus on the task at hand.

“Did Connix include coordinates in her last beacon?” Poe called, turning to look back at BB-8. The droid whirred and nodded, and a diagram of the open space showed on the screen in front of Poe. He made a noise, looking over the area. Within a minute he had spotted an anomaly in the vacuum, and zoomed in, analyzing the screen.

“There’s a planet here…” Poe trailed off, frowning at the readout. There was a small dot nearby, it could be nothing, but it was the best chance he had of getting into a position where he could possibly provide backup. “We’re getting off this rock, prepare for hyperspace travel to these coordinates.” Poe punched in new numbers, so that the X-wing would fly into realspace in the orbit of yet another unknown planet.

Once Poe put his hands on the controls, he refocused. He lifted the X-wing off the rocky outcrop, only blasting a handful of birds back in the process. He rose up off the island, and saw a hooded figure walking with purpose towards the deep valley that Poe knew held the ancient tree stump.

Poe resisted doing some acrobatic maneuver over the pathway, didn’t deviate from his plan. Luke had made his decision, and Poe needed to leave. He looked forwards, towards the horizon, towards space beyond it. Pulling the joysticks back, the nose of the X-wing tilted to the sky. Poe didn’t look to the watery planet as the fighter broke free of Ahch-To’s gravity.

Before he went into hyperspace, he adjusted his helmet, and closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath.

“We all good buddy?”

The affirmative beeps came across the comm, and Poe nodded. He held onto the controls tightly and twisted the joysticks, and the X-Wing jumped into hyperspace. Poe was going to Crait, without the hope he had promised to bring.

Poe rubbed at his eyes, settling in for the ride. He tried to close his eyes and ignore the feeling in his gut that perhaps he had waited too long, and wasted too much on Ahch-To.

* * *

There was nothing left.

Poe had seen the glittering destruction of the _Raddus_ , had only a broad brush of what happened before he drew fire away from the escape pods, the screams of the Resistance coming over his comm set as soon as he dropped into realspace.

He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the remains of Resistance, holding a heavy gun in his hands. Finn was next to him, pressing against him, a reassuring presence amid the chaos. The skaters had been ineffective, his own X-Wing shot down after a first pass at the mega canon. Behind him Connix and the last of the communications team worked to find someone to answer their call, to find anyone.

“This is it, huh?” Finn asked, eyes trained on the hole that had been bored into the wall.

Poe nodded, hefting his gun up higher into the pit of shoulder. “Ain’t nowhere else to be, pal.”

Finn took a deep breath, soldier-steady, unwavering. “We gave them hell for a while.”

Poe didn’t respond. He thought back to the Dark Place, tried to ignore the way that the impossibility of it all pressed on him, how it felt to be trapped, to know that this was the last stand, the final fight he’d ever have.

The chatter and response behind them died down, and Poe glanced back, about to ask if anyone had answered, when he was struck dumb.

Luke Skywalker himself was walking towards him. He was coming from the back of the cave, followed by Leia and Connix and the rest of the crew, all looking determined and, Poe would even dare to say hopeful.

“Luke-” Poe’s eyes went wide, and he almost dropped his weapon. Luke was in a black outfit, tight, tailored, his appearance trim and neat. Poe gripped his gun tighter to prevent himself from reaching for him.

Stopping next to him, Luke smiled, just barely, and put his hand on Poe’s shoulder, leaning in. His breath tickled the hair over Poe’s ear. Poe’s eyes fluttered as Luke spoke.

“We will not end today.”

Poe took a breath, trying to think of what to say, but Luke was already walking through the rough-cut entrance. As if he was in charge of the First Order, the shelling stopped, and Luke’s shadow disappeared from sight.

Taking a step forward, Poe stared at the place where he had been, and then turned back to the assembled Resistance. He looked over General Organa again, and she smiled a little, nodding to him. It was his time now. He blinked, counted a dozen, maybe less, but they would not end. The Resistance would stand.

“He got in here somehow,” Poe heard himself saying, lowering his weapon, “there must be a way out.”

“Are we just going to leave him?” Finn asked, frowning. “Him against the First Order?”

“Luke can handle it,” Leia said, hands folded over her cane, “we need to think about our own survival.”

Poe walked towards the back of the cave, frowning. There was the sound of a massive sustained explosion outside the base, and Poe flinched. He set his jaw but didn’t turn around.

“There’s got to be a hundred tunnels…” Connix said, hopelessness creeping into her voice. Poe held up a hand, cutting her off, and he turned his head, frowning. There was a tinkling like chimes, and he opened his eyes quickly, jogging forward.

“Where did the fox go?” He asked, calling over his shoulder. “If they can smell fresh air, they can lead us out.”

Poe looked back, and the rest of the rebels looked to the General. Leia gestured to Poe. “What are you looking at me for?”

Turning back to the impossible maze, Poe knew that this was important. This was his first act as the next leader of the Resistance, and he felt the gravity of it. He swallowed and began to walk down the dark tunnels, leading the last hope of the galaxy out of the labyrinthine mines of Crait. He would lie to himself later, convincing his memory that he didn’t almost run outside to find Luke.

* * *

On board the _Falcon_ , Poe sat next to Leia, holding her hand. How did she seem so frail and her brother seemed a titan? It didn’t seem fair to Poe. He closed his eyes, leaning forward, one hand covering his eyes.

They were safe, Rey had managed to return just in time to rescue all of them. She had been their savior, and Luke…

He took a deep breath, and his shoulders hunched forward suddenly, overcome with an emotion he knew too well. He had felt it too many times, had been made angry by grief too often. This time he only felt heartache.

“He’s gone,” Poe murmured, turning to press his head against Leia’s shoulder, eyes closed. “I know it.”

Leia hummed, not speaking for a few seconds. She shifted slightly and put her hand on Poe’s head, sliding her hand through his curls. “I know it too.” Her voice was soft and comforting, and Poe hated that this was the grief of a woman who had lost her entire family. He should try to comfort her, but instead he was leaning on her for some kind of relief.

“He did it to save us.”

Poe pulled back to look her in the eyes as he spoke, eyebrows up. He noticed that her dark eyes were glistening and he smiled a little, something crooked and sweet.

She smiled a little, taking a deep, steadying breath.

“All of us, you brat,” she murmured, chuckling slightly and looking down. “He didn’t die in an attempt to impress you.”

Poe laughed, getting a little red as he shook his head. “Oh, kriff, you knew?”

“I’m not an idiot, Poe.”

“It was supposed to be a secret, that was part of the fun,” Poe joked. Already he felt lighter, as if laughing had lifted the weight off his chest. He still felt the enormous sadness, the overwhelming sense of loss that he feared would never leave his heart, but at least he wasn’t angry. At least he didn’t feel as if this was a waste, as if Luke died in vain, or by some force absent his own choice.

Luke had lived a life of consequence. He was important, and he mattered. One man could change the turning of the universe, and Luke had turned it towards the light his entire life.

His death was something he had to honor and respect. Poe would not be angry for what Luke did in his last moments, because it had been done out of love, at the end of all things.


End file.
